Chapter 24: 24_Morning after

He was silent for too long and she scowled. “Well?!”

Thoran shut his eyes, turning away. “There’s no goodnight kiss, you’re no child. Just close your eyes and sleep!”

He meant to leave, but she grabbed him. “I want my kiss!”

For the hundredth time, Thoran was stunned by her. “I told you there’s no kiss!”

“I want my goodnight kiss!” she cried, kicking her feet much like the spoilt princess he’d first pegged her to be. “You’re a bully!”

He scoffed. “Who’s really bullying *who* right now?!”

With a tired groan, she hugged his arm and pressed her cheek to his shoulder. “But, William, I can’t sleep in the dark. I want my goodnight kiss for sweet dreams.”

Exhausted, he sighed heavily. Just his luck that he’d ended up with the youngest of four princesses. The most pampered of the lot. Pursing his lips, he said to hell with it.

Whatever. It was just a damned kiss, it would give him peace for the rest of the night.

“Fine. Give me your bloody cheek.”

Lifting her head, she blinked at him. “Hm? My cheek?” Frowning, she grabbed at her cheek and attempted to hand it to him.

He gave her a blank stare for a moment and then took her jaw. “Like this.” Turning her face, he lightly brushed his lips against her cheek. “Now sleep.”

“Hey, that’s no goodnight kiss!”

She grabbed his lapels and jerked him forward.

Her lips took his in a firm, full kiss. His eyes went wide open, the entire muscular mass of his body frozen beside her as he tried to process what the hell she was doing.

He might have taken a bit too long to process it because the kiss quickly went from a hard pressure on his mouth to a softer, more languid meeting of lips.

He jerked away, staring at her. “What on earth are you doing?”

She gazed up at him through the dark fan of her lashes. “I’m… getting my goodnight kiss…”

The sorcery in her soft voice must’ve entranced him because, instead of pushing her away from him, he sat there in silence, waiting. Even when she leaned toward him again, he didn’t move. His skin prickled with anticipation.

Her hand touched his cheek and then, tilting her head, she brought her mouth right back to his for another kiss.

He let her.

She deepened the kiss and he felt her tongue flick at his bottom lip, making him groan deeply. Just like that, he was bewitched, kissing her back with fervour. She had the softest, plumpest lips ever and they had his entire mind in a headlock. Her soft fingers cradled his face and he moved in any direction she pulled him, fully entranced. Their lips melded together and, intensifying the arousal he was suddenly battling, she fell back on the bed and pulled him with her so his body covered hers. He took charge of the kiss, deepening it to satisfy his sudden craving for her, his mouth hungrily tasting hers and her lips returning the kiss with equal intensity. Thoran couldn't think straight. What were they doing and why did it feel so good?

Her arms circled his neck, sending the oddest shiver through his body. He couldn’t stop kissing her, grasping her waist with one hand whilst he enjoyed the taste of rum on her tongue.

Suddenly, the heat in her kiss seemed to cool. When her lips against his got slower and then stopped, Thoran paused, freezing on top of her.

Oh, hell. How had it gone this far? Panting, he tried to relocate his lost sanity. She’d come to her senses, hadn’t she? Whilst his were still fully on leave too. He pushed himself off her, roughly clearing his throat as he looked away.

“Well, that’s… that’s enough for a goodnight…” Looking back at her, his words simply trailed off. “…kiss…”

With her lips parted, showing a bit of her pearly teeth, she gave the tiniest snore he’d ever heard.

Staring at her, he wondered if his eyeballs played tricks on him. She’d fallen *asleep!* With a scoff, he glanced at the roof of the tent. Another soft snore brought his gaze back to her and he stared at her in a mixture of astonishment and confusion.

What an innocent face she had when she slept. One wouldn’t think she'd just nearly seduced him out of his trousers like a seasoned courtesan. And how *eagerly* he’d let himself be seduced! Distaste filled him to the brim and Thoran shot off her bed, pacing about for a moment. He must’ve been crazy.

The full length of his cock was rock-hard against his thigh, straining in the constraints of his trousers. For her? God, he was insane!

He paused, staring into the dark. Maybe Gunnar was right. Yes, of course, he was. It had been months since they’d returned to the village, his body was simply lacking Riona’s skilful touch. Or *anyone’s* skilful touch, really.

With a semblance of calm restored on his frazzled nerves, he swallowed hard. Yes, that was it. He was just horny, it didn’t mean he desired the princess. Suddenly, his mind filled with thoughts of Lady Hadgar’s house and what happened there. He swatted the memory away like a pesky bug. That didn’t count!

He’d only seen that she was easily flustered, and so he’d taken the opportunity to distract her with his manly charms. And it had worked, so that was that.

Huffing, he glanced at her once more. She sighed in her sleep, turning on her side and raising her knee on the bed. The slit in her gown made way for the smooth limb, parting until a great portion of her thigh was uncovered.

He looked away, clenching his jaw. Never again. He would never let her touch alcohol again.

Why?

Because, after what just happened between them... he didn't think he would be able to resist her twice.

*********

The next morning was quite grey. Smoke from last night’s fire rose lazily to a sky that gave the promise of rain.

Seated alone by the dying fire with a blanket around her shoulders, Amethyst yawned tiredly. She’d wanted to sleep more after the measly four hours she’d gotten, but the men were all awake and the sounds of their training wouldn’t let her be.

“Here you go,” said Frank holding a bowl of hot soup out to her. “It’ll help your headache.”

“Thank you,” she croaked, gratefully taking the cup. “What happened last night?”

“God’s truth, I’ve no clue, miss,” Frank said, dropping onto the seat beside her so he could slice her some bread. “I slept through most of it.”

She sighed, squeezing her eyes shut. “I can’t remember a thing. It’s a big, black haze.”

Frank chuckled. “Well, that there means you got real plastered.”

Her brows rose. “What? But I don’t drink, my body can’t handle it.”

He nodded gravely. “That’s prob’bly why you’ve got the nasty headache.”

“Ahoy, maties!”

“Mornin’, lad,” said Frank.

Amie looked up, smiled. “Good morning, Harald.”

He bowed dramatically. “Amie, a great honour, seeing your lovely face this morning.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, laughing as he sat beside her.

“Fucking cold, i’n’t it?” he commented, leaning over and taking a gulp of her soup.

“Hey!” Frank growled. “I’ll ‘ave you flat on the ground, you mannerless twit. That there’s for the lady!”

“Your fault for not waking me up for breakfast!” Harald annoyingly chirped.

Frank glared. “Why, you little—”

“Woah, it’s okay!” Amie was saying amusedly as Frank reached over to smack Harald with a slice of bread.

“It’s fine, Amie!” Harald rasped, fighting for his life against the breadcrumbs in his nostrils. “I’m used to the abuse!”

Scowling, Frank stood. “I’ll get you more soup, miss.”

With a glare at Harald, he went off and the lad released a breath of relief.

“You must’ve been his damned daughter in your past life,” the boy commented. “I nearly died for drinking your soup.”

With a tired smile, she handed him the bowl. “Here, you can have it, there’s plenty more.”

He brightened. “Really?” Gleefully, he took the bowl and drank gratefully so the steaming soup could heat his thin body. “Ah! That’s the stuff!”

She giggled at his dramatics. He was quite a delight when you got to know him. The weakest in the camp and yet the most audacious. He was definitely Amie’s favourite, after Frank of course. “Drink slowly, you might choke.” He nodded as he gulped down the soup and she smiled. “You’re such a funny kid.”

Harald took immediate offence, lowering the bowl to give her an expression of shock, complete with a soup moustache above his lip. “I’m no kid, Amie. All of nineteen years, old enough to sail the seas!”

She laughed at the wide-eyed look he was giving her. “You’re just a baby!”

He scoffed, grinning. “I am not! How old are you?”

Her chin rose. “I’m twenty-three years old.”

He scoffed even harder. “That’s a measly four-year difference, don’t treat me like a babe!”

His outburst was even funnier than his offence and she threw her head back laughing at him.

At the entrance of his tent, Thoran watched them.

Look at her. Not a care in the world, laughing as though she hadn’t caused him to stay up all night. As if she’d forgotten all about what she’d done to him. Well, not to *him.* To the damned William bastard she’d mistaken him for. Fury simmered heatedly in his chest.

The image filled his head for the millionth time since it happened; her mouth grinding on his, her hands stroking his chest and cheek.

His body stirred and he tightly shut his eyes. Who the *hell* was William?